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In 2001, Oxana Ribacova feared for her life, while she traveled from Moldova in Eastern Europe to the United States. She'd battled multiple drug resistant tuberculosis for years, and hope was a fleeting thing.
"Flying over, I knew I had little chance to survive," she said.
Ribacova prayed and made a promise to God, a significant moment for the daughter of a Communist officer from the former Soviet Union.
Her trip ended in Tupelo, where she was supposed to have a lung removed at North Mississippi Medical Center, but she was deemed too sick for the surgery.
Since she had a highly infectious disease, Ribacova spent six months quarantined in an apartment on Ida Street. Nurses in surgical masks and gloves visited twice a day. She took her medicine and slowly got better. Hope returned.
"July 4, that is a special day for me, personally," she said, smiling at the memory. "For me, that was my Independence Day, when I walked out of that apartment."
A true friend
Ribacova was free, but she had no friends or family in town. That changed when she started walking the track at Hancock Park and met Louise Balch.
"I would walk there every day," said Balch, a retired librarian. "I would see this girl and wanted to know who she was."
In Moldova, one in four people has tuberculosis. When she got sick, Ribacova was rejected by the people closest to her.
"I told her right from the start what my situation was," Ribacova said. "I didn't know what her reaction would be."
Instead of running away, Balch opened up a new world for her friend. She introduced Ribacova as "my little Russian girl" at Global Outreach in Tupelo.
"There's always somebody from a foreign country there," Balch said. "They just welcomed Oxana."
The pair visited different churches, and Ribacova spoke to congregations. With Balch's help, she made friends throughout Northeast Mississippi.
"You have people that you choose, and you have people who come into your life," Ribacova said. "She was not my chosen friend, she was my given friend. I consider her one of my blessings."
A tough decision
The graces piled up for Ribacova from 2001 to 2003. Doctors donated their services, and pharmaceutical companies provided her medication. A community of people, some of whom Ribacova has never met, gave their time and money to keep her alive.
"Why would people do so much for me when they learned I had this complicated case of tuberculosis?" she said. "I was so overwhelmed. I was thinking, 'How can I pay them back?' Well, I can't pay them back. I will for the rest of my life feel gratitude for everything that was done for me."
When her treatment was coming to an end, she learned she could stay in the United States if she chose.
Ribacova retreated to the Ida Street apartment, and asked friends to respect her privacy because she had hard thinking to do.
There was the little matter of a promise to God made on an airplane during a hopeless moment. If she survived, if her miracle came to pass, Ribacova had promised to go home to help others.
"Whatever happens, it was a miracle that I got through it," she said. "The doctor - the doctor! - even said, 'I do believe a miracle took place.'"
Spread the hope
Ribacova returned to Chisinau, the capital of Moldova, and visited the hospital where she'd been treated.
"A girl was in the same bed I was in. Her eyes were hopeless and helpless. It seemed like life was lost," she said. "I told the girl, 'This is a very lucky bed you are on. I had been on that bed two years. God put a miracle in my life.'"
She worked with a foundation based in Norway to provide three meals a day for the patients, as well as the doctors and nurses. At Ribacova's urging, churches sent money to help residents of "the children's garden," which houses kids with chronically ill parents.
"They send extra money and we can buy fruits and juices and yogurts for the children," she said.
Through another project, families in Norway adopt families in Moldova. One of those donors in Norway kept complaining about her son's drug use, and she begged Ribacova to find a place for the boy with a family in Moldova, so he could learn how blessed he truly was.
"Well, when he went back, his mother sent the nicest e-mail about the great time he had," Ribacova said. "She didn't mention his problems anymore. Before he came, that was all she talked about."
The United Nations funds a program that sends underprivileged kids to summer camp. Since 2005, Ribacova has served as a counselor for kids from age 7 to 14.
"You're actually an outcast when you get TB," she said. "These children have the experience of being rejected because their parents are sick."
At camp, she listened to stories from a 9-year-old boy who thought his mom would love him more if he didn't have asthma; a 13-year-old girl who wished she could trust people; and a 14-year-old boy who believed he should be supporting his family by now.
"We go and we don't think of the people who don't want anything to do with us," she said. "These children get 10 days to live like regular children live."
Recharging
Throughout all her work in Moldova, Ribacova, 35, gets regular encouraging e-mails from Balch.
"Tupelo, this is home," she said while sitting on Balch's living room couch on Thursday. "I know there is a room over there with a bed and a picture. That's Oxana's room."
"Yes, it is," Balch said.
This is Ribacova's third time to visit old friends in Northeast Mississippi since she decided to go home and make good on her promise.
"You recharge my batteries here, and when I go home I am able to do this for other people," she said. "I get so much here - all of that atmosphere and attitude, whatever you call it - and I always take it back."
Contact M. Scott Morris at (662) 678-1589 or scott.morris@djournal.com.
Distressing E-mail leads to book
TUPELO – During her most recent visit to Tupelo, Oxana Ribacova received an emotional e-mail from back home in Chisinau, Moldovia.
A young woman with tuberculosis had reached a point where she didn’t want to live any more.
As a survivor of the disease, Ribacova responded quickly.
“I tried to write, as much as possible, an encouraging e-mail,” she said. “I do believe she will get better. I told her that one day she will believe, herself.”
After the exchange, something clicked with Ribacova, and she’s now written more than 250 pages of her autobiography.
It details her battle with tuberculosis, and the help she found in Tupelo from Dr. Ben Moore, Dr. John Bryson, Wanda Bass, Cheryl Edgeworth, Louise Balch and many others.
When it’s finished, the new book will be called “My Little Russian Girl.”
Ribacova is a native of Russia, and the book title was inspired by the way Balch introduced her to friends in Tupelo.
“I am 35 years old,” Ribacova said, “and I am still her little Russian girl.”
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